Why Wood Can Never Be A Good Quidditch Captain
by Luinlith
Summary: just as the title says. it isn't a list! odd if i must say so myself, just because i used it for school. R+R, anyways!


Disclaimers: I do not own anything of Harry Potter or of this fic (except the idea and Catherine Higgins. I made her up). Setting: Right after the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in the third book (where Gryffindor lost because Harry fell from his broom when dementors came to the Quidditch field and he started hearing his mother's screams of the night she and his father were killed by Voldemort) A/N: if you will notice, this story is very, VERY odd. That is because I used this for a school thing where I had to present four traits of a leader. I decided not to make it the usual someone-saves-and-becomes-hero- of-someone, and decided to use good 'ol Oliver. So excuse the very weird ending, which I did not bother to change (I'm sorry ^^;). Thanks for reading! R+R please!  
  
Why Oliver Wood Can Never Be a Good Quidditch Captain  
  
Harry was lying down, awake, on the farthest bed in the Hospital Wing. He noticed that it was one in the morning, as said on the wall clock that hung before him on the wall. He would have wanted to fall into a dreamless slumber hours ago, but the haunting memory of dementors and a woman's screams at the back of his head could not leave him alone in peace. He changed his lying position and stared at the wall beside the bed, since the bed was pushed to touch the wall. As he was about to close his eyes, count sheep and try to fall asleep when he suddenly heard soft footsteps, a creaking door open and a soft thud as the door closed. Harry imagined that this was Madam Pomfrey, ready with a purple bubbling liquid substance as additional medication for him to be able to rest more peacefully to get him back as soon as possible to tip-top shape. Or maybe, he thought, it was Dumbledore, who for some incomprehensible reason knew that Harry was awake and troubling himself over the events that occurred that day at the Quidditch Field. But the face that greeted him was not old like Dumbledore or stern with a kind of motherly concern like Madam Pomfrey. It was a rather young face, actually. There stood before him was the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, Oliver Wood, hair disheveled and with bloodshot eyes, Quidditch robes tightly clinging to his whole body, as he was wet from head to toe. This was probably what "drowning himself" meant when he talked with Fred and George. But still, Harry noticed, the manic glint that Oliver had in his eyes was still there. Only what Harry feared is that the manic glint Oliver has right now might not be because of his transfixed obsession for Quidditch.  
  
"Hallo, Harry." Oliver said, almost slyly, while looming over Harry, with that make-you-want-to-quiver sinister smile he only displayed now. And Harry did quiver at the sight.  
  
"Um.Hallo, Oliver! How are you? Where have you been? You're all wet." Harry forced a friendly grin.  
  
"Fine, very fine. Just came back from the showers." Oliver said back, still smiling that queer-looking sinister smile of his. Harry was beginning to think that Oliver has lost his mind. He tried to shake this off as Oliver took a chair, placed it beside Harry's bed and sat down. "You?"  
  
"Um.pretty tired actually. I'm having difficulty sleeping.well, I'm really sorry about - "  
  
"No, no, Harry. No apologies needed." Oliver replied shaking his head. "You tried your best." Under a breath and gritted teeth Harry swore he heard Oliver mutter, "Well, no apologies WILL be accepted, now eh? You PROBABLY tried your best, eh? PROBABLY."  
  
"Well," Harry begun, "I really tried to take control of my thoughts and - "  
  
"Oh sure, sure.I mean, yes, yes, you probably did."  
  
"I'm sorry that I destroyed your dream in winning and all."  
  
Oliver's eyes grew big and it was as if flames were dominating his eyes. He still had that manic smile of his as his words dripped with Quidditch- obsessed pain. Harry thought Oliver was about to go mad. "DESTROYED it? Ha. Hahaha. Yes, SHATTERED MY dreams.MY SEVEN YEARS of sweat and tears TRYING to gain MY victory, all gone because of a bloody self-control problem, eh Harry? Well, it PROBABLY isn't your fault AGAIN, now is it?"  
  
"Well, we can't do anything now. Hufflepuff won."  
  
"WON? HUFFLEPUFF WON? With my seeker falling, they won! While cheating they won! What did they do to you, huh Harry? They BRIBED you, DIDN'T they? HOW? HOW could you do this to the team, to your house? And what INSANE thing did they bribe you with, huh? An unlimited supply of Zonko's tricks? Allow you to be smuggled in to Hogsmeade on Saturdays? Cheating notes to all of Snape's tests? Or maybe a girl, Harry? It IS a girl, isn't it? IT IS! WHO'S the girl, Harry, who? TELL me! Is it that seventh year, Catherine Higgins? I'm SURE they bribed you with her! Well, I myself wouldn't say no to a bribe like that, thinking that she has the most beautiful, striking, gorgeous face in Hogwarts, and those eyes, those deep, deep orbs of sea blue, and - "  
  
Now, Oliver was mad.  
  
"Oliver? Wake up!" Harry took Oliver by his two shoulders and started to shake him, as he continued to flail his arms and spit out false accusations of his having an intimate relationship with a seventh year Hufflepuff.  
  
Harry was surprised. Well, he was amused too. Harry was surprised and amused at how Oliver would THINK these insane thoughts about him being bribed, and how he had reacted to it. And about that Catherine Higgins.it was a pretty interesting subject. If Harry didn't think it dangerous for Oliver's health that he was losing his head, shouting about Harry's shameful disloyalty to Gryffindor and mooning over a girl Oliver always called a "coquettish obnoxious peacock with a brain the size of her humiliating knowledge of Quidditch" (Oliver refers everything to Quidditch), he would have just let Oliver continue his ramblings.  
  
Still, very valuable information lay in his hands.  
  
Oliver stopped screaming and lecturing Harry about loyalty to his house and insane acceptance of bribes (no matter how beautiful they were) when Harry decided to punch him on the stomach just to shut him up. It was a very un- Harry thing to do, Harry himself noticed, but he was desperate to keep Oliver quiet before both of them were caught by Madam Pomfrey, awake at the wee hours of the morning, making a scene in the Hospital Wing (Oliver especially, who was not supposed to be there). Oliver just made this popping-eyes look and a high-strung "oof!" then dropped his head and stared at Harry. Now he's back to reality, Harry thought.  
  
"Are you mentally sane now, Oliver?" Harry said, bemused and amused grin on his face.  
  
"Ah.yes, yes.thank - thank you, Harry." Oliver shook his head and started to rub his forehead.  
  
"That was some outburst you did."  
  
"Ah - Outburst? Really? Well, I.I'm sorry, Harry. Just a bit disappointed."  
  
"Yes, just a teeny bit." Harry gestured with his hands. "That's alright, Oliver. I understand."  
  
"Thanks." Oliver looked at Harry and gave a small grin.  
  
"No Problem." Harry smiled back.  
  
"Ah - Harry, what did I say when I was - losing my head?"  
  
"Well, you were trying to say that I had a self-control problem, that I made myself fall from my broom, that I was not doing my best to win, that I was bribed by Hufflepuff and that I was a disloyal and ungrateful ingrate."  
  
Oliver looked relieved and gave out heavy sigh. "Oh. Well.I'm truly sorry."  
  
"No need to apologize." Harry assured. "Oh yes! I almost forgot. You also called Catherine Higgins beautiful, striking and gorgeous."  
  
All blood was drained from Oliver's body as he suddenly grew white and stiff. "Oh bloody - I DID?"  
  
"Yes Oliver, you did. You fancy the girl, and you never told us. You're quite the secret-keeper. A very good one, I must say. I didn't even notice it." Harry smiled again, and he could not stop smiling now. He was unintentionally enjoying the look of pure horror on Oliver's face.  
  
Silence ensued for a few seconds as Oliver covered his face with his hands. He was obviously tired and still very much wet. Again out of nowhere, Oliver spoke.  
  
"Do not tell anyone of this, okay Harry? Let's just forget this ever happened." Oliver stared into Harry's face. "My life depends on it."  
  
"Sure. Our little secret."  
  
"Yes, Harry. Our little secret." Oliver stood up from the chair, returned it to where he got it, then stood by the door. "Well, you have a good rest."  
  
Oliver was about to open the door when Harry, who was unsure if he should say the thoughts in his head boldly to Oliver who was in consideration older and more superior than him, called out to him. "Oliver, I - I just wanted to say. You really ought to work on those tact skills, and have more faith on me. I would never be traitor to Gryffindor. And maybe you can go to Fred and George, Angelina, Katie and Alicia and congratulate them for their job today, even though we lost. I think they'd like to share the credit for a job well done. This IS their dream too, you know. And Hufflepuff really did win, fair and square. We have to give them credit for that. Justice, you see."  
  
Silence ensued again while Oliver had his right index finger raised up, ready to retort to what Harry said, when he slowly withdrew and put his hand down to his side. He looked down on the floor, and then looked back to Harry. "Thanks, Harry." He opened the door then stepped out, closing the door lightly behind him.  
  
Harry pondered on the events that happened just minutes ago, then smiled. Now, a part of the heavy load that was bothering him a while ago was off his back, and somehow, he found it easier now to fall asleep. 


End file.
